‘What is the ground of that capacity for simple delight in us on which so much complexity can be built?’
There are three parts to ‘Being There’. The first part includes various pieces that David Malouf had written since 1965, the second part includes two previously unpublished libretti for ‘Voss’ and ‘Mer de Glace’ and the third is a translation of ‘Hippolytus.’
I enjoyed the articles, introductory essays, talks that constitute part one: David Malouf’s erudite musings about the shape and meaning of art. About what it is, and about how we (as individuals) respond. These are pieces to read, think about, and reread. And to wonder whether (and how) definitions of and responses to art may have evolved over the almost fifty years covered by these articles. I have read some of these pieces when they were originally published, but to read them as a collection invites more detailed consideration of a personal relationship with art, especially with opera and music.
‘Any activity that demands our complete attention - absorption in a task, looking hard at a painting or a piece of sculpture, losing ourselves in the reading of a story or in a play or film; doing anything, as we say, that ‘takes us out of ourselves’ - is restorative, and in a particular way.’
I enjoyed, too, the two libretti, especially ‘Voss’. David Malouf’s introduction to this section sets out the context for his writing of the libretti, and reminded me of the challenges of adapting novels for stage (and film). I love the novel ‘Voss’, and, as for other novels to which I am emotionally attached, am not interested in any movie version of it. I know (somehow) that the movie will not match my interpretation. In the ‘Voss’ libretto, though, I could recognise ‘my’ Voss. ‘Mer de Glace’ is different in that it is not a representation of Mary Shelley’s novel ‘Frankenstein’ but a depiction of the first telling of the story.
And ‘Hippolytus’? Left me wanting to reacquaint myself with Euripides.
I enjoyed this book, with its collection of different pieces, providing both a view into David Malouf’s relationship with art in various forms, and a looking glass through which to consider my own responses to interpretation and performance. About what I like, and why.
Note: My thanks to NetGalley and Random House Australia for an opportunity to read an advance copy of this book.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith